


Applied Xeno8iology

by holdinginpee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bladder Inflation, Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Caliginous Romance | Kismesissitude, Come Inflation, F/F, Fellatio, Non-Standard Bulges (Homestuck), Omorashi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rambling, Vaginal Sex, Watersports, i hope you guys like digressions on xenoanatomy and xenoculture because that's what you're getting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdinginpee/pseuds/holdinginpee
Summary: Being Vriska's kismesis is enough to test anyone's patience, so Rose decides to testhers.
Relationships: Minor Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam - Relationship, Rose Lalonde/Vriska Serket
Kudos: 11
Collections: The Annual Femslash Kink Meme 2020





	Applied Xeno8iology

**Author's Note:**

> haha, whoops, it sure has been a month and a half since i posted something, and even longer since i posted something more than like three people would read... though i guess considering this is the middle of a venn diagram of several kinks of varying degrees of nicheness this might not be any different in that regard. hm.
> 
> i drew up a [crude reference image](https://i.imgur.com/QZNfYxN.png) in paint of the bulge in case my description was unclear or ambiguous. it's always seemed a little boring to me that so many people seem to go with the plain tentacle. give it a little character, you know? a little visual interest.

The distinctive whoosh-and-beeping noise of a transportalizer was always the same. Unlike a door which one could slam or a hallway one could stomp down, there was no possible way to make the process of transportalizing into a room sound annoyed.

That wasn’t to say Vriska didn’t give it an honest effort, though. She materialized with a dramatic billow of her coat and an almost palpable aura of disgruntlement, scowling fiercely. Rose gave it a seven out of ten on the scale of dramatic room entries she’d pulled out of her ass on the spot.

“Terezi,” Vriska spat, a rumbling snarl underlying her voice, “is _laughing at me._ ”

Rose didn’t look up from her book - not that she strictly needed to, but it was the principle of the thing. “That sounds like something she would do,” she agreed, and turned the page.

Vriska strode towards her. Rose sighed and closed the book, lightly tossing it onto the table just in time for Vriska to grab the front of her robes and physically haul her out of her chair. Even now, it still surprised her sometimes just how strong trolls were.

Vriska leaned in close to her face. “And it’s _your fault._ ”

“Um,” said Kanaya, across the table. “I’ll Just Leave You Two To It, Shall I?”

“Probably for the best,” Rose agreed, glancing toward her. It was generally considered polite to keep your matespritship and your kismesissitude reasonably separate, so as to avoid either party aggravating the other and the potential resultant buildup of black feelings. Assuming you couldn’t find an auspistice to mediate, at least. “Apologies, darling. We’ll have to pick up later.”

“It’s Fine,” she said, flashing Rose a smile. “Vriska’s Habit Of Inserting Herself Into A Situation Is A Fact Of Life To Which I Have Long Since Become Accustomed.” She put down her book and, in a display of drinker fastness, blurred across the room to the transportalizer, leaving Rose with the fleeting feeling of a kiss brushed across her cheek. “Have Fun, And Try Not To Kill Each Other In Any Lasting Way.”

“Fuck off,” Vriska muttered as Kanaya disappeared. “Now, where were-”

Rose cut her off by grabbing her to pull her in for a kiss - a black one, rough and forceful. Bad troll literature, she had been amused to discover, shared the bad human literature cliché of “tongues fighting for dominance”, and in _that_ context she could see where it was coming from. Vriska’s sharp teeth gave her a natural advantage in that arena; her tongue stung where they nicked it in several places. It was fine, though. Perks of being a God Tier; tiny injuries like that would be healed within minutes.

They broke apart, breathing heavily. “I believe,” Rose told her, “you were trying to blame me for Terezi’s knowledge of your… situation.”

“Not _that,_ ” Vriska huffed. “God knows she doesn’t need any help sniffing out em8arrassing secrets. I’m 8laming you 8ecause it’s your fault I’m _in_ this _situation._ ”

Rose raised a dubious eyebrow. “Is it now. So it’s my fault you lack any sense of restraint or self-control? Or, perhaps, when I challenged you to show some patience, your acceptance was the result of some black magic on my part. Or did I somehow engineer the biology of your entire species in the distant past, specifically to this end?”

“Don’t play coy, Lalonde. This ridiculous torture was your idea, I just indulged you enough to go through with it. I’m 8eing laughed at just 8ecause you didn’t think I could 8e _patient._ ”

Rose let a smirk tug at the corner of her mouth. “Mm. And I suppose, in the spirit of patience, you _only_ came here to berate me? You had _no_ other intention for how this would go?”

Vriska’s scowl darkened and she looked off to the side, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

“I thought not. I don’t suppose this is you giving up? You can end this at any time, you know.”

“Fuck no,” Vriska snarled. “This 8n’t over yet. I just… need to take the edge off, and you’re a marginally 8etter option than my hand.” She paused a moment. “May8e. If you didn’t _say_ anything, at least.”

“Surely you know me better than _that,_ ” Rose said. “But with such flattery, how can I resist?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She pulled away and hopped up to perch on the edge of the table. An 8-ball materialized as her clothes disappeared, dropping to the floor and rolling off, and Rose rolled her eyes as she often did at the absurd sylladex. Whomever designed Alternian fetch modi was clearly more interested in thematic novelty than usability. “Just get _on_ with it already.”

Rose took a moment to take in her kismesis’ form. Vriska was all skin and bones and sharp corners, scarcely a soft line to be found anywhere on her, but now there was an unusual exception: Her stomach curved out in a small but noticeable distention. It would, at this point, be possible to assume that she’d simply had an extraordinarily large meal, or perhaps put on some curiously localized weight, but Rose knew the truth.

Trolls reproduced by mixing their ejaculate in a bucket, and while a pair weren’t expected to fill it to the brim, they produced a significantly higher volume of fluid than humans did. That fluid had to come from _somewhere,_ of course, and trolls didn’t have an equivalent to humans’ external testes; thus, it had to originate internally. After some research (the trolls’ spider-based interweb having been preserved just like the internet of Earth) Rose had learned that trolls had an internal gene bladder, positioned similarly to a human uterus. Sexual stimulation caused it to rapidly fill, drawing water from the body to mix with a number of enzymes and gamete cells, thence to be expelled upon climax.

The catch - at least for Vriska - was that that last part was not, strictly speaking, an inevitable conclusion to the first. It was possible to stimulate a troll, causing their gene bladder to fill up, and stop before they reached orgasm; in such a case, the unfortunate victim would be left unable to release its contents until they were finished off, or did so themself. Given some time to recover and rehydrate, this could even be done repeatedly - and, thanks to a quirk of their organ layout, the gene bladder would press against an erogenous zone as it filled, leaving them in a state of perpetual arousal.

This was Vriska’s third day without release; she had, at her own insistence, been brought to the edge on both previous days, and this one was clearly not an exception. She certainly wasn’t making it easy on herself if she hoped to reach a full week without caving in and thereby win the little challenge Rose had put her to.

(The gene bladder was far from the only interesting thing about troll anatomy. From the organs that would have been vestigial if they had _ever_ actually birthed live young like the breasts the females - and a few of the dead Captors - bore, to the way their biology varied along the hemospectrum to the extent that the highest castes had a completely different circulatory system, to the bizarre psychic powers ranging from mind control to telekinesis to Terezi’s synesthetic perception; the process of evolution that could have given rise to them was simply baffling. Rose’s working theory was that a number of things were holdovers from whatever species’ session gave rise to _their_ universe, though-)

“God,” Vriska groaned, “shut _up._ ”

“I didn’t say anything,” Rose pointed out.

“Not out loud, 8ut I can _feel_ you going off on some hoof8eastshit ram8le and it’s almost as 8ad as having to listen to it. Stay on topic, Lalonde.”

Reluctantly, Rose reined in the impulse to meander. She captchalogued her hood-and-cape assembly, leaving the rest of her God Tier outfit on, and moved to kneel down between Vriska’s legs. Then, finding the table awkwardly high, she floated off the ground to bring her face level with Vriska’s crotch, which she gave a look over in a pointedly _non-_ rambling fashion, just long enough to describe it in her head if she had been narrating to a hypothetical audience.

In construction the bulge loosely resembled an overlarge finger, with multiple smaller segments connected by articulating joints allowing it to bend far enough to lie flat against the body pointed either up or down. Vriska’s, predictably, had eight segments. Rose had halfway expected it to be eight inches in length as well, but estimating by eye it looked to be somewhat less; trolls, it turned out, had never actually developed a cultural association between genital size and desirability analogous to that of human penises, so the figure was no more significant than for instance the precise length of her arm. Length, thickness, and number of “phalanges” all varied somewhat between individuals; Kanaya’s bulge, the only other one she had seen in person, was thinner and slightly longer than Vriska’s but had two fewer segments, which each one - especially the last two - being longer to make up the difference.

(Vriska was growling under her breath. Back on topic.)

Each segment bore a small pair of nubby spikes, somewhat reminiscent in shape of Karkat’s horns except that each pair but the last were pointed downwards out of the bottom side rather than upwards. The whole assemblage was formed of a skin-grey, somewhat spongy tissue over the cartilaginous structures trolls had instead of bones, and was (per her research again - even if she had had the _inclination_ to find out in person, the only male humans she had access to were her ectobiological brother and, briefly, various dead Johns) similar in thickness to a human penis.

Below where the bulge twitched and flexed restlessly lay the nook, meriting little description as all that was visible on the outside was a sphincter of muscle. Nook and bulge both were lubricated during arousal by a cloudy fluid tinted in the troll’s blood color; Vriska’s clothes were undoubtedly stained with it, given how she shone with wetness already.

Rose leaned in and stuck out her tongue, running it up the underside of the bulge in a quick, light tease of a lick; Vriska’s eyes fluttered closed and her head tilted back, a gasp slipping from her throat. The fluid had an unusual taste - a little sweet, a little bitter, and an oddly metallic edge Rose couldn’t put a finger on. Mainly, though, she would describe it as tart; something vaguely like a good strawberry, the kind she’d hardly ever had because getting them delivered to her house was a hassle.

She parted her lips and slipped them over the end of the bulge, just far enough that they came to rest on the first joint; the folds of skin where it bent were particularly sensitive. Then she withdrew, leaving her lips pursed as though in a kiss upon the very tip; then back down to repeat the motion. After a few repetitions, once Vriska seemed sufficiently teased, she flattened her tongue to the underside and leaned forward, taking it as far into her mouth as she could.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Vriska groaned.

Rose drew back, producing a barely-perceptible series of pops as each set of spikes momentarily broke the seal of her lips. Vriska grabbed at her clumsily, several sharp nails digging into her scalp as she pushed her head back down again; this time as she raised her head Rose let her front teeth skim across the top of Vriska’s bulge, not hard enough even to scratch but enough to serve as a reminder.

Vriska’s eyes snapped and her head jerked forward with a hiss to fix Rose with an intense gaze. Rose gave her an amused look in return, attempting to convey a smirk with her mouth otherwise occupied.

Oral sex was… something of a fraught topic, for trolls. Their teeth grew longer and sharper the higher their blood caste; the act had thus taken on a somewhat racialized aspect - or whatever the blood equivalent was - which Rose didn’t, and might never, have the cultural context to fully understand. In short, it was a “lowblood thing”, since it was difficult or impossible for anyone else. Even with the blunt teeth of maroonbloods (and humans), though, it was a significant risk in a society where inability to reproduce meant death. For matesprits, thus, there was an expression of trust involved; for kismeses the implications were more complicated, at least from a human perspective. As Rose understood it, allowing one’s kismesis to fellate one meant something along the lines of “I feel confident enough to put myself at risk like this because I don’t think you’d go through with it for fear of the retribution I would enact”, while _doing_ it carried the message that one _could_ kill their partner, if they felt the risks worth it.

Frankly, if Rose’s guess was on the mark, Vriska was only comfortable with it because Rose was human. She wasn’t _wrong,_ Rose certainly didn’t intend to maim her, but nor was she opposed to invoking the implication in service of their kismesissitude. In response, Vriska lightened her touch, leaving her hand on Rose’s head but in a gentler grip and paying more attention to her nails.

A compromise, then. Acceptable.

With the obligatory power play satisfactorily played out, Rose curled her fingers around the base of the bulge where she couldn’t comfortably reach with her mouth and resumed moving, stroking and sucking in tandem and enjoying the little noises that escaped Vriska despite her best efforts to seem unaffected.

She could have given attention to her nook too, but opted not to. It was harder, though not impossible, for trolls to climax from stimulation to only one organ, so leaving it untended-to made Rose’s job easier. She’d never live it down if Vriska came without first conceding defeat because _Rose_ had been too enthusiastic.

Besides, it wasn’t necessary. The stimulation of her swollen gene bladder seemed to go some way to making up for the absence; faster than Rose expected Vriska’s breathing began to rasp in a manner that had alarmed her when she first heard it from Kanaya, indicating that she was getting close. She kept going a little longer, until the bulge was writhing in her grip and pressing itself against the roof of her mouth, and all at once she pulled her hand and mouth away.

“ _F8CK!_ ” Vriska exploded, the sound torn from her chest hard and broken in a manner Rose poetically likened to shattering porcelain. Her bulge continued to writhe desperately in search of any touch, and her hand was halfway there before she visibly caught herself and stilled it.

Rose withdrew a handkerchief from her sylladex and dabbed at her mouth as she watched her kismesis. She couldn’t tell for sure if the swelling under the smooth skin where a navel ought to be had visibly grown just a little, or if she was just seeing what she expected to. By the time Vriska managed to still herself and ease her raspy panting into more normal breaths she was leaning towards the former, but still wasn’t sure.

“Hhh-” Vriska started, then stopped, cleared her throat, and started again. “ _Heh._ Passa8le, I guess. 8ut if that’s the 8est you’ve got, this’ll 8e a piece of cake.”

“If you say so.” Rose placed one hand on her stomach, gently caressing the bulge and making her breath hitch audibly. “You’re not making it any easier on yourself when you keep filling it up like this, you know.”

“Pff,” she laughed. “Like I need to. I’m a 8lue8lood, remem8er? We’re pretty damn tough. This is nothing, you’ll see.” Her wings fluttered as she heaved herself off the table, stumbling a little on the landing. “Oh, and you missed a spot,” she said, jabbing Rose in the chin with a nail.

Rose withdrew a small mirror - the marvels of a functional sylladex, you could actually _carry_ things without having to cart around a small mountain of plastic spheres. She had indeed missed a spot, a trail of blue going down far enough to have escaped her tissue; she wiped that off too. Fortunately, God Tier robes were magically self-cleaning, so anything that had made it to her chest was already gone.

The transportalizer whooshed again as Vriska departed, and in her absence Rose smiled to herself. She had this in the bag.

* * *

“SEE, IT’S A PROFOUND MESSAGE ABOUT THE DANGERS OF TAKING YOUR QUADRANTS TOO FAR. MONTAG AND CAPLET WENT OVERBOARD AND SET THEIR GANGS UP TO FEUD FOR GENERATIONS AFTER THEY DISAPPEARED. ROZLIN COULD HAVE KILLED TAGUEI AND CRIPPLED THE MONTAGUES, BUT GREGOR PACIFIED HER, LEADING DIRECTLY TO THE MASSACRE OF HALF THE CAPULETS. IF LARENZ HADN’T BEEN SO PREOCCUPIED WITH HIS AUSPISTICISM, HE WOULD HAVE FOUND OUT SOONER THAT THE MESSENGER HAD BEEN IMPALED, AND THEN ROMIEO AND JULYET WOULDN’T HAVE DIED LIKE DUMBASSES.”

It was the fifth day of the week; evening, insofar as that meant anything on the meteor. Vriska was still holding out, but Rose was confident she wouldn’t last. In the meantime, she was leaning against Kanaya on the couch, reading and listening to Karkat and Dave.

“all i’m saying is, shakespeare’s kind of overrated. dude’s plays were like half dick jokes, which i fully respect, but it’s not exactly required reading to be cultured and shit.”

Rose’s phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled her attention away from the argument to unlock it. That it was a message from Vriska didn’t come as a surprise, considering Terezi was also present and Gamzee had never once messaged her.

arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT]  
AG: Hey. Drop whatever you’re doing and get over here.  
TT: Why would I do that?  
AG: There’s… 8een a development.

The message came back almost as quickly as Vriska could type it, and Rose smiled at the thought of her staring at her phone in wait of a response, unable even to pretend at aloofness.

“DOES YOUR INFERIOR HUMAN SHAKESPEARE EVEN HAVE THE SCENE WHERE JULYET RIPS OUT THE ASSASSIN’S THROAT?”

“i’m pretty sure that was a dick joke too.”

TT: Is the development that you’ve decided to concede?   
AG: Like hell.   
TT: Then I’m not sure why I should go anywhere.   
AG: Uh, 8ecause I said so?   
TT: I’m quite comfortable here, and Karkat and Dave are having a fascinating conversation.   
AG: “Conversation”, sure. I think I can hear them from here.

“GET YOUR GRUBBY FUCKING HANDS OFF MY HORNS, ASSHOLE!”

TT: They started out agreeing how silly it was for the protagonist of _In the Light of the Blood Eclipse_ to compare his relationship favorably to _Romieo and Julyet._   
TT: Things snowballed somewhat.   
AG: Do they ever _not?_ Honestly, a girl could start to wonder if they’re waxing pitch.   
TT: Doubtful. They enjoy each other’s company too much.

“are you _chewing_ my _hair?_ ”

“YEF.”

TT: Or at least, in the wrong way.   
TT: Can you really see Karkat leaving a mess to force Dave to clean up a pile of die and plastic shards?   
TT: Or Dave taking the time to ensure there were exactly seven or nine left of everything in the thermal hull?   
AG: Guess not.   
AG: Seems like you and I are the only ones getting any 8lack action around here.   
AG: On which note, get your ass up here.   
TT: Masterful segue.   
TT: But you still haven’t convinced me it’s worth my while.

“dude. how the _fuck._ ”

Rose glanced over. Karkat had managed to get both legs and one arm tangled in Dave’s cape and was emitting a noise akin to a mortally offended teakettle. It was hard to tell whether that was drowning out Terezi’s cackling or the other way around.

AG: Just do it, you recalcitrant asshole.  
AG: 8efore I knock you out and see if tying you to the front of the meteor as revenge counts as a Just death.  
TT: To earn death in standing up to a megalomaniacal egocentrist…  
TT: I think that would be Heroic.  
TT: But if you really can’t go any longer without seeing me,  
TT: And given that you’re too ashamed to show your face in public,  
TT: I suppose I can make time.  
AG: Yeah, yeah.  
AG: Fucking 8itch.  
AG: <3<  
TT: You too. <3<  
tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased trolling arachnidsGrip [AG]

* * *

Vriska had hidden herself in a room she’d staked out for such meetups early on in their relationship, two transportalizers and several long hallways from the main room; where exactly that corresponded to in pure physical space neither of them was quite sure. Like most of those throughout the facility the door swung open smoothly and closed quietly behind her, despite the general atmosphere suggesting it ought to creak and slam. Most of the room’s contents were as normal: A bed and several comfortable chairs, a bucket alchemized with auto-vanishification functionality tucked out of sight, some scattered items of clothing Vriska had never bothered to pick up, and a large ominous machine of unknown function lurking in the back corner.

Vriska, sat on a chair with her shirt riding up over her stomach and looking tense and irritable, was not so normal. “Finally,” she snapped.

Rose gave her an unimpressed look. “It hasn’t even been ten minutes,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, and it takes like half that to get here.”

“You should be grateful I decided to come at all.” Rose remained by the door rather than move further into the room, subtly underlining that she could simply leave Vriska to her dramatics if she so chose. “You didn’t exactly offer a lot of incentive, just this mysterious ‘development’.”

“This is _important,_ alright? I…” Vriska flushed faintly blue and grimaced, visibly reluctant to divulge the apparently-important matter she’d brought up to begin with. “I need to _piss,_ ” she concluded, the words coming in a burst as though she’d forced them out.

Rose levelled her with a raised eyebrow. Now that she was looking, she noticed that Vriska was perched on the front edge of the seat with her thighs together, a far cry from her usual messy sprawl. “And? You’re perfectly free to do so.”

“I _can’t,_ okay? I sat down on the load gaper 8efore and nothing happened, so I w8ed and it still didn’t work and it’s starting to get uncomfortable now. And I’m guessing this is _your_ fault, 8ecause it sure never happened 8efore.”

“Hmm.” She was probably right about it being related to their contest; as far as Rose knew, God Tiers _couldn’t_ even suffer from illness and other such mortal concerns. “Well, I’m hardly an expert on troll anatomy, but I can take a look. Lean back and keep your arms away from your stomach.”

“‘Take a look’?” Vriska repeated, but even as she said it she moved as directed, so Rose ignored her. Instead, she concentrated. Her God Tier Seer of Light powers had, after the first few bright and shining minutes, mostly gone quiet; the events of their journey were neither essential nor relevant, so beyond making sure they remained on track to return to canon when necessary there was little to See. Some of her lesser powers, however, remained at full effectiveness.

The layers of Vriska’s body faded to transparency as Rose peered through them, focusing on the organs beneath the skin and muscle. A faint whisper of sourceless knowledge helped her discern what she was looking at and what it would more normally look like.

“Ah,” she said. “It appears your gene bladder is pressing down on the normal one, which is in turn pressing on the urethra and pinching it shut. You’ll need to empty the one before you can do so with the other.”

“W8,” Vriska said. “You can see through things too? How did I never know that?”

“You never asked.”

“ _Why_ would I - Oh, whatever. That means the 8et’s off, right?”

“It certainly does.” Vriska’s face stretched into a grin, which fell as Rose continued, “As long as you’re willing to accept the loss.”

“ _What?_ ” Vriska demanded. “No, fuck you, that’s not fair! How is this anything to do with restraint or whatever the fuck?”

“I warned you,” Rose pointed out. “Repeatedly. I said that you were only inviting trouble for yourself by initiating trysts with, if anything, _greater_ frequency than usual, knowing full well that doing so would worsen your condition. If you had shown more self-control, this wouldn’t have happened before the week elapsed. So yes, you can relieve yourself if you wish, but it will demonstrate that I was right all along.”

A growl rumbled in Vriska’s chest. “Fuck you,” she repeated, barely-restrained violence flashing in her eyes.

“If you want to make your situation even worse,” Rose smirked. “Otherwise, I’ll leave you to it. Kiss before I go?”

Vriska launched herself out of her seat, colliding with Rose in a tangle of limbs and teeth and fury. She cut Rose’s lip open in the process, filling her mouth with the metallic taste of blood. It tasted like victory.

* * *

The sixth day passed without event. Vriska didn’t show her face, nor did she message Rose. The silent treatment; a classic stratagem, but not one that would be effective. Rose could be patient; that was the entire point of this. When she woke on the seventh and final day, though, she headed back to their room. Vriska was likely at her wits’ end, or would be shortly; she wasn’t going to miss the chance to claim victory by being elsewhere.

Vriska was actually asleep when Rose arrived, lying on her side and curled up into a ball; her face was set in a slight grimace, suggesting that the rest wasn’t terribly restful. She stirred as Rose crossed the room, likely roused by the footsteps on the metal floor, and just after Rose sat down she sat blearily upright. “Wha’zz-” she muttered, then cut herself off with a sharp intake of breath; her frame went suddenly rigid with tension and her hands flew to her crotch. “ _Shit,_ ” she hissed.

“Something the matter?” Rose asked innocently.

Vriska pinned her with a glare, the effect somewhat ruined by the half-asleep unfocus of her eyes. “You know exactly what the _matter_ is,” she growled. “Are you gonna let me go piss?”

“Are you going to admit you’ve lost?”

She didn’t reply, instead throwing off the covers to stand up. At some point she’d changed into her God Tier robes, and now Rose could see just how full she’d grown. The fabric was tight across her stomach, which was clearly too large now to have any mundane explanation; if she’d been human, Rose would have guessed she was in the latter half of a pregnancy. It was significantly larger than when she’d last seen her; even taking into account the extra mass of her urinary bladder, Rose suspected that either she’d masturbated at least once in the intervening time or, in a serendipitous extra torment, the stimulation from her gene bladder alone was enough to cause some small amount of constant production.

Vriska stood, making her way over to one of the other chairs with small, shuffling steps, unable or unwilling to part her pressed-together thighs. She gingerly sat down, crossed her legs tightly, and picked up her spider-themed laptop from the nearby bench.

Rose withdrew her latest knitting project from her sylladex; she was trying to make a hat with holes for Kanaya’s horns. She took up her needles and resumed where she’d left off, keeping a metaphysical eye on Vriska without looking that way physically.

Vriska’s patience soon began to visibly wear thin, just as she’d expected. Her leg started bouncing for a while before she noticed she was doing it, glowered, and stilled it again; the motion picked up again as soon as she took her focus off it. Rose watched as her desperation for multiple kinds of release took over her thoughts; within a half-hour she went from using her computer normally, if angrily and with frequent glances over at Rose, to unfocused staring at the screen without even the pretense of typing anything.

Rose could see the very moment she broke. She tensed up, presumably suffering from a wave of desperation, and looked at Rose. Rose kept her expression unchanged as emotions warred visibly on her face, pride and stubbornness losing ground against her body’s needs.

“Goddamn it,” she muttered.

“Hm?” Rose asked, looking up at her with affected innocence.

“You… win,” Vriska rasped, the words sticking in her throat. “I can’t take this any more, I give up. Let me come.”

Rose looked her up and down thoughtfully, then let the suspense draw out a little longer before she spoke. “No.”

Anger, raw and visceral, flashed across Vriska’s face. She threw her laptop aside as she lunged upwards, only its ability to catch itself on spidery legs saving it from crashing to the floor; she made it upright and a half-step towards Rose before doubling over and thrusting her hands between her legs, a desperate noise escaping her. Without standing upright, she raised her head to glare daggers at Rose. “Wh8t do y8u _m8an_ ‘no’!?”

“I’m feeling generous today,” Rose said with an ironic smile. “I think that was just a moment of weakness; surely you don’t truly mean to give up so close to the end. So I’m going to give you another chance.”

Vriska gaped. “8ut - I -”

“Of course, if you truly feel you’ve reached your limit, I’ll accept your concession; you need only persuade me that you really do mean it. In other words…” She bared her teeth, letting her smile turn dangerous. “8eg me, 8itch.”

Vriska stayed motionless for a long moment, trembling with rage and bodily needs, before lowering herself back into the chair and crossing her legs tightly. Giving her an out like that was a risk, but in Rose’s evaluation an acceptable one; she wasn’t going to make it to the next day, even with the “help”. She couldn’t even sit up straight, leaning back to give her stomach as much room as possible, and her leg bounced openly now with no attempt to make it stop. Pained whines and hitched breaths slipped from her throat, the fullness of her straining organs pushing her beyond her ability to keep silent.

Suddenly, beset by a particularly intense urge, she thrust her hands into her crotch; her body went rigid and she gave a rattling gasp. Rose looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t come, did you?”

“No,” Vriska ground out. Theoretically, she could end this at any time if she chose to; Rose would have difficulty stopping her in time if she decided to simply finish herself off. She wouldn’t, though; the implicit rules of the game forbade it, and while the rules in a kismesissitude were always up to be pushed, changed, or even broken, it was poor form to simply _ignore_ them. That was one of the mistakes the Orphaner had made, and Vriska had talked for far too long about the Marquise for Rose to believe she’d cast herself as the antagonist in that scenario.

Rose watched as she slowly removed her hands, trying to avoid pushing herself over the edge. “Hmm,” she hummed, contemplatively. “When was the last time you drank something?”

“Fuck off.”

“You don’t want to get dehydrated, Vriska.”

“I don’t _need_ more w8ter,” she snapped. “I need y8u to let me 8mpty my 8ladders or _shut up_ so I can hold th8m in _peace._ ”

“Well, if you get thirsty, just tell me and I can fetch you something.”

She growled and stood up, using her flight more than her muscles to escape the chair. She pressed her legs tightly together and started shifting her weight from one to the other, wings fluttering erratically behind her. Still watching her with her metaphysical sight, Rose put away her knitting and got out her laptop to continue working on her latest piece of creative writing.

Vriska was on her last legs, and they both knew it. Over the course of the next ten minutes she continued to dance around, occasionally varying up the motion by switching to fanning her legs or bouncing on the spot; none of it seemed to help.

Finally, her legs buckled beneath her and she collapsed to her knees on the floor, cradling her stomach with a hand. She took several shuddering breaths, trying to calm herself to no avail, and finally looked up at Rose. Tears welled up in her scowling eyes, one slipping free to trace a blue track down her face. “Please,” she whispered, with great reluctance.

Rose glanced up at her. “Did you say something?”

“Please,” she repeated more loudly. “Please, I need to come and I need to piss, Lalonde, I can’t hold it in any more. I’m 8egging you, just like you wanted. _Please._ ”

“Aw, but you were doing so well.” Rose closed and captchalogued her laptop. “Are you sure you can’t last a little longer? What happened to that 8lueblood strength you’ve boasted of?”

“I’d l8ke to see _y8u-_ ” Vriska bit off her retort. “No. I can’t. It feels like I’m going to _explode,_ Lalonde. My 8ladders have 8een aching for _days_. Stop dragging this out.”

Rose stood and walked over, smiling at the sight of Vriska on her knees looking up at her. She gently wiped away a tear from her cheek with one thumb. “Well, if you’ve truly reached your limits, I’ll be kind. Get on the bed.”

The instruction seemed to take a moment to process, but once it did Vriska lurched upwards and hurled herself onto the sheets. Rose captchalogued her clothes, exposing her skin to the slight chill of the air; Vriska followed suit, another 8-ball rolling away and giving Rose a clear look at the state of her.

It was no wonder she had switched to her Thief of Light robe; anything else would be irreparably stained. Blue fluids were smeared across her abdomen and inner thighs and had dripped most of the way down her legs. Even as Rose watched her bulge flex, droplets beaded at the tips of the spikes to drip down its length or be dislodged by the movement.

Looking at it, Rose was stuck with the sudden, absurd realization that, if one squinted a little, it resembled a troll in their larval stage - the segmented body, with the spikes in place of legs and inverted on the head for horns. It really _did_ all come back to babies in the end, with trolls.

Not that this was the appropriate time to be thinking about babies. That was probably more of a matespritship thing, and _definitely_ a Kanaya thing.

She floated up to kneel on the bed beside Vriska so she could reach out and caress her swollen stomach. It was firm to the touch, a light press of her palm eliciting a whimper and demonstrating that there was minimal give to sink into. She could feel the gene bladder straining against its contents, a slight shift beneath her hand as the muscles spasmed.

“You’re _very_ full, aren’t you?” she asked rhetorically. “Filled to the brim with slurry like a bucket in a cheap pornography. I bet you would do anything I told you right now, as long as you thought it would make me allow you to finally empty yourself out.”

“ _Lalonde,_ ” Vriska nearly sobbed. “ _Please._ ”

“It’s pathetic,” she said. “Pitiful. You’d better be grateful that I’ve chosen to give you what you want.”

So saying, she lifted herself up to straddle Vriska and caught her bulge in her hand; Vriska cried out and it thrust into the grip. She guided it between her thighs and sank down onto it, and between the degree to which watching Vriska’s desperation had aroused her and her kismesis’ own lubrication, it slid inside her without resistance. Vriska cried out unintelligibly, the harsh syllables marking it as Alternian.

There was no way this was going to last long; even as she took the bulge inside her that first time a spurt of fluid shot from the tip. Rose reached down and slipped a finger into her nook, curling it to rub against the hard bumpy ridge running along the top, and Vriska’s hips canted upwards reflexively, thrusting deeper into Rose. She put her other hand to work playing with her clitoris as she began to move her own hips. The bulge curled inside her to drag the nubs against her vagina as it slid in and out of her, which by a happy biological accident caused it to press up against her g-spot.

“God, you’re going to make such a _mess,_ ” she said. “Come on, let it out. Just think how much better you’ll feel once you’ve debased yourself beneath me.”

Judging by the rattling of her breath, Vriska didn’t particularly need the encouragement. Indeed, a scant couple of thrusts later, her bulge straightened inside Rose, throbbing and rigid; she bit out something still in Alternian and began to come. Her ejaculate poured into Rose, filling her until _her_ stomach began to swell. It was an intense sensation but not an unpleasant one, and combined with the walls of her vagina squeezing around Vriska’s bulge and her fingers on her clit she tipped over into orgasm herself.

The overwhelming mixture of sensations served to draw her climax out longer, but even so Vriska wasn’t done when she came down from it - there was only so much fluid she could expel at a time, after all. She rested her hand on her own stomach to feel it swell, and when the flow of slurry finally ceased it was firm and tight just as Vriska’s had been. Enough of it had poured out of her to leave a sizeable puddle on the bed and Vriska’s stomach still wasn’t flat, but Rose was significantly the larger of the two now.

“Oh, thank god,” Vriska moaned between panted breaths. “ _Shit,_ I needed that.” She lifted up her head to look down at Rose. “Let’s see how _you_ like it, huh?”

Rose lifted herself off of Vriska, loosing another gush of blue onto the bed as the bulge slipped out. Her flight felt just a little sluggish, as though burdened by the extra weight. Settling down on the edge of the mattress where it was drier, she patted the curve of her stomach. “It doesn’t feel all that bad to me.”

“Yeah, well, see if you still feel that way after a week. 8esides, 8etween what’s all over the 8ed and what’s still in my waste 8ladder you’re 8arely even _half_ as 8ad off as I was.” She pushed herself up with her elbows until she was mostly upright. “Speaking of which, I think I’ll take care of _that_ too. Now that my gene 8ladder’s not pressing down on it I could wait, 8ut I don’t want to.”

“I think we’ve established that waiting isn’t your strong suit,” Rose agreed.

“Sure, laugh it up,” she grumbled. She swung her legs to the side to escape the puddle and hopped off the bed, moving to stand in front of Rose. Despite her affected nonchalance she couldn’t quite keep still, shifting in place. “Open wide,” she ordered.

“No thank you,” Rose said, and gave her a closed-lipped smile.

Vriska grabbed her jaw, squeezing tightly enough to only ache a little bit. “I said _open your mouth,_ Lalonde. Do you want me to _make_ you?”

Rose waited a few seconds to register her resistance, then opened her mouth a little; Vriska stuck her fingers between her teeth and pried them further apart. Evidently she was desperate enough that the prospect of imminent relief got to her, because a few drops sprayed from her bulge to splash upon the floor before she visibly tensed and cut it off. Rose looked up at her face, and from the glower she got in return she gathered she’d seen Rose’s shadenfreudic amusement.

Before her control could slip again, Vriska raised her bulge to aim at Rose’s face and let loose a torrent of urine. Rose made no attempt to swallow, so it quickly filled her mouth and began to spill out; Vriska responded by shifting her aim. First upwards, without warning, causing Rose to have to quickly shut her eyes as it splashed over her face; then down to her chest to spray on her breasts. She moved her hips slightly to pivot the stream to the sides, making sure Rose was thoroughly covered, then moved down to her stomach and finally, as her bladder approached empty and the stream slowed, back to point the last of it at her now-closed lips.

“You look good like this,” she said, smirking, as Rose wiped off her face with her hand. “I think we might have found your true calling as an all-in-one pail and load gaper, Lalonde.”

Rose looked down at herself - her stomach curved outwards, her skin covered in predictably blue liquid and a thicker blue dripping down her thighs - and then at Vriska, whose crotch and abdomen still shone with her own slurry. “You haven’t exactly come away clean either, Serket,” she pointed out. “I think we _both_ need a shower.” She stood up quickly and captured Vriska’s mouth in a kiss; her nose wrinkled at the taste of her own urine still present in Rose’s mouth, but she didn’t pull away.

She would almost certainly launch some kind of revenge in the near future; Rose was familiar enough with her standards for retribution to know that this wouldn’t be sufficient, especially since she had enjoyed more of it than she hadn’t.

She looked forward to seeing what her kismesis came up with.

**Author's Note:**

> would you believe i didn't notice the resemblance to a wiggler until like halfway through? i considered changing it, but i thought it would be funnier to have rose realize the same thing.


End file.
